


The Persistence Of Memory

by NahaFlowers



Category: The Crimson Field
Genre: Angst, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles and Tom get leave at the same time. All is well until the next morning, when Miles wakes up wrapped around Tom with Tom's hand in his hair. Takes place pre-canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Persistence Of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise in advance. Inspired by my bisexual Miles headcanons and a certain post on Tumblr.

Tom couldn’t believe he’d agreed to share a bed with Miles in the first place. Usually, they only needed one hotel room kept for them, since they rarely got leave at the same time. However, this time they drove away from the hospital together, both of them looking forward to spending some time away. However, when they got to the hotel, there was a problem.

Miles came away from the hotel reception, brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tom.

Miles paused before answering, “It seems that there’s a problem, old chap. We’ve only got one room reserved, since we usually only need the one, but there’s a big delegation of officers coming through tonight so there are no other rooms left vacant.” Miles grimaced as he waited for Tom to take in the information.

“Oh.” For a minute, Tom was stumped. Miles looked at him apologetically. “Well, I’ll just head back then. I’m sure Colonel Brett won’t grudge me or another man coming back to collect you tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t do that, Tom!” said Miles in dismay, “This is the most time off you’ve had in ages! And the first time we’ve both had it together.”

Tom smiled at his friend. He certainly did not object to having some time off, although he usually got frustrated if he was away from the hospital for more than a couple of days. And Miles seemed so eager to spend time with him away from the hospital. He didn’t have the heart to turn him down, really.

“What do you suggest then?”

Miles looked uncomfortable for a second, perhaps surprised that the ordinarily grumpy Scot had been so amenable to his wishes. “Well, we could share,” he fumbled with his hands as Tom gave him a sharp look, “I mean, it’s a big enough bed. And I promise I won’t threaten your innocence,” Miles grinned, earning him a light punch on the arm from Tom.

“Alright,” said Tom, “I suppose I can at least see if the bed is big enough to avoid your flailing limbs before I bugger off back to the hospital.”  
“Excellent,” grinned Miles, “I’ll let the hotelier know the good news.”

 

In the end, Tom hadn’t been able to avoid Miles flailing limbs, and Miles had ended up wrapped around Tom, clinging on to him like a limpet. Like always, Tom woke up first, only to find Miles’ snoring head on his chest and no way of getting out of bed without waking his friend up. Sighing and resigning himself to the situation (for now, at least), Tom reached over to the bedside table and picked up the book he’d fortunately left there yesterday, for once not a medical journal but a novel that his mother had tearfully given him before he’d left for France. 

Leaning back on the pillows, Tom rested the book on his chest so he only needed the use of one hand. The other carelessly came to rest in Miles’ hair, slowly stroking to the rhythm the words beat out in Tom’s head. 

As the pages kept turning under Tom’s fingers, Miles’ snores slowly faded out and Miles began to blink the sleep out of his eyes, slowly but surely coming into consciousness and humming with pleasure as he did so. Intent on his book as he was, Tom didn’t notice Miles waking up, so Miles was free to look up at Tom, and still in his half-sleep state, to register the beauty of his bedfellow, the bright blue eyes, the almost chiselled face...before his eyes fell on Tom’s hair and his thoughts again focussed on the hand in his hair, moving rhythmically back and forth, and just how _good_ it felt...

“If you play with my hair, you’re going to get kissed, so don’t do that.”

Both Miles and Tom froze as Miles’ words sunk in. Miles gulped, thinking that he should probably move away from Tom now, he had already revealed his feelings and made Tom uncomfortable enough, but he couldn't seem to will his limbs to stir. So he just lay there, waiting for Tom to make the first move.

Tom couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard, and was quite tempted to pretend he hadn’t heard it at all. But heard it he had, so he had to deal with it, and the first step in dealing with it was to remove his hand from Miles’ hair. 

“Miles, I- um, I mean, Miles...” Tom was stammering and he could feel the blush rising up his cheeks, hating himself for not being able to find the words to resolve this unbearably awkward situation.

Miles’ body had finally caught up with his brain, and he rolled off Tom, curling up on his side of the bed, as far away from Tom as physically possible, with his head burrowed in the pillow groaning softly to himself. 

Tom sat up in bed, turning towards Miles, determined to stop his friend – his best friend – making such sad, pathetic noises. He placed a hand on Miles’ back, and Miles flinched. Alright, not that, Tom thought. 

“Miles, Miles, it’s alright.” What else could he say? A hollow laugh is all he received from Miles in reply.

“Miles, honestly,” Tom swallowed, considering the best approach, “I’m flattered. Really.”

Miles groaned particularly loudly and looked up at Tom with an agonised expression, making him glad he hadn’t voiced the jokey remark that had been on the tip of his tongue.   
“Just, just shut up, Tom, alright.” There were tears in his voice, and Tom recoiled from the harsh tone that was so unlike Miles. Miles sighed, and with a great effort said “Tom, please, can we just forget this? Can you just forget I said it, and carry on as before?” His voice was pleading, and as always Tom was powerless to deny Miles’ wishes.

“Alright,” Tom sighed, “but Miles-”

Miles, who had looked up hopefully when Tom had agreed to his request, looked down again, as if he had just been sentenced to execution. “Please, Tom.”

Tom nodded sharply, once. They carried on with their morning, the tension still noticeable between them even over the next few days, with Miles overcompensating for the awkwardness by being even more exuberant and daft than usual. This period of unease ended spectacularly when Miles got exceedingly drunk on absinthe and champagne at a mess dinner (one that Tom had avoided, for Yelland related reasons, by volunteering for nightshift) and wondering around camp and through the forest, howling and crying and generally disturbing the patients. 

Still, sometimes Tom would catch Miles staring at him, or having moments of uncharacteristic silence, and although he tried hard to deny it and rationalise it myriad other ways, he knew the reason why. Captain Miles Hesketh-Thorne had fallen in love with him.


End file.
